My Fair Lady
by Nocte Amissus
Summary: Change. Change is good, change is bad, change is every constant and ever growing. No matter who you are or what you do, things change. No matter how hard you fight it, no matter how hard you say no, you don't want to change, you always change anyways. Full Summary on Profile. Please R&R! Nonslash!
1. Broken Down

_**I do not own Criminal Minds. I do own Riven and Callan and this plot idea. All Criminals and Killers and scenerios are mine and mine alone. Please do not steal, just as I am not stealing Criminal Minds. This little thingy right here, a marvalous thing called a Disclaimer, is proof of that. I hope you enjoy! - Nocte**_

* * *

_**Chapter One:**_

_"London Bridge is broken down,_

_Broken down, broken down._

_London Bridge is broken down,_

_My fair lady."_

* * *

_The bare floor rubbed harshly against her bare feet, though she couldn't really feel that past the pain in her shoulder which was bent in a sickening way behind her back. Wisps of auburn tuffs stuck up wildly on her scalp and pale skin was ashen from the loss of blood and fright. Bitten nails clawed feebly at the massive hand clutching said hair in an attempt of escape. No escape ever came._

* * *

"Morgan, what are we doing here?" The tentative voice inquired from beside the dark skinned man. For a moment Derek Morgan said nothing, chocolate orbs as dark as his skin gazing steadily at the house in front of him. The scent of freshly cut grass engulfed him even from within the car, birds chirping lazily outside the cottage, trees rustling together in a sort of dancer that only they themselves seemed to understand. The car was in the drive and the windows and doors were all opened, letting in the fresh air.

Derek knew this house. It was the house he'd frequented for well over three years, though no one knew that - a good thing really, but sometimes he wished he could tell them. Them meaning the team. He trusted them - or well, Hotch and Reid. Reid... Reid said something, didn't he? The older man cocked his head to the side to look at the frail man beside him whose gaze was returned, laced with concern for his friend and brother. "Why are we here, Derek. What is this place?" Reid only ever used his real name when they were alone - keeping up the professional appearance he had called it. Derek was okay with that, but it didn't stop him from calling the other Spencer or Spenc, or even Pretty Boy.

Why were they at the cottage? Derek just had to make sure. He had to make sure. What was he making sure of? The case... God the damn case. Chocolate fingers clenched around the steering wheel, turning them a shade of nearly white, though it was still too dark to call it that. "I just need to see.." he mumbled back, pushing himself out of the car, shutting it with a soft click. He heard his companion exit the unmarked vehicle and took a deep breath, eyes roaming over the red bricks that from afar seemed like wood. They took in the grey stones lining the lower portion of the house and the way that the roof seemed to dip all the way down before curving out at the very end, but just so slightly. He took in the sight of the seemingly crumbling chimney made of the same red brick, but couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he gazed at the stones coming from said brick. He took in the pushed out windows, not helping but be a tad bit worried that they were opened but knowing that it was okay. He stared longingly at the circular window not far from the chimney, knowing exactly what was behind it and what the room held. He took in the gray roof, checking repeatedly for signs of damage that he should repair. When he finally finished his assessment, the agent hadn't realized that his heartbeat had calmed from its ferocious slams against his chest. He hadn't noticed the fond smile that spread across his lips nor the way that he unfolded his arms and tucked his thumbs into the belt-loops of his pants because damn it was a nice house, and he had helped build it. Derek didn't need to look over at the resident genius to know that he was about to open his mouth to question the sudden change, so Derek took that chance to begin forward.

Measured steps crunched against the gravel, shoes slapping mildly against the rocks. He could hear Reid's steps too - crunch crunch crunching away behind him. He could see the toys littering the back yard and the newly planted garden. He could see the fresh flowers and the small pond that he knew was filled with fish and even a few ducks and turtles, and the occasional goose or geese that fly in for Winter.

Soon enough their steps lead them to the front door which was firmly clasped shut. The door itself was wide open, but the protective screen in front of it was more than likely locked multiple times. The glass itself was bulletproof, an installation Derek had added despite the many protests. Hand reaching out, knuckles rapping against said glass, Derek couldn't help the dread pooling in the pits of his stomach. He knew nothing was wrong - he hoped nothing was wrong, anyways. There wasn't much he really knew without a doubt, safety - their safety... That wasn't one of the things.

* * *

_Her screams went unanswered as the man yanked and tugged her towards the back. Carpet turned to wood and wood turned to concrete. Her heels cracked repeatedly against the harsh flooring of the stairs. Step, slam, step, slam. On and on the beating to her feet went until finall they landed on the cool concrete flooring of the basement. Concrete turned to tile and colored walls turned to brick. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry and sob and shout. She wanted to beg for help and she wanted to curse the man holding her. She kept her lips firmly clasped as the treacherous torture began._

* * *

A pixie-like face peeked out from around the corner, a slop of auburn locks pulled neatly back into a loose ponytail. Silver orbs gazed at the two agents standing before the door curiously before lighting up just so at the sight of the darker toned man. "Derek Morgan, what on earth." Her voice was sweet, angelic even, though he knew the raw power that was hidden behind the soft-spoken words. Soft steps sounded as the girl - no, woman - padded nimbly over to the door. A Series of locks clicked open and the door opened wide. Before the agents stood a petite woman, standing no more than 5'4, most probably 5'3 really. Her hands landed on her hips and a brown-red brow arched at the men.

"C'mon, mama. Does a man need a reason to visit?" Derek couldn't help but let the small teasing word slip. The way her eyes lit up and the smile that now graced her lips, Derek knew there wouldn't be any issue. He pushed his way into the house, arms wrapping around her light form and carrying her a few feet farther into the house. He loved the way her laugh bubbled up and was muffled in his chest and the way that she only squirmed a bit as he carried her, far too use to his methods. "Mama, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we work together," he informed, though he highly doubted he needed to. Reid's FBI jumper was enough to say 'hey, look, I'm FBI.' He set the woman down and cocked his head at the other agent, beckoning him inside the home. "Reid, this is Riven Adler, an old friend." He felt a slap at his chest, startling him into looking down at the woman he'd just moments ago introduced.

"He doesn't know. Derek Clifton Morgan, why did you drag him all the way out here if he doesn't know. Ohh, I could throttle you. Of course you would pull something like this." The scolding was amusing to any onlooker to see. A 6'2 man being scolded by a seemingly frail woman of 5'3. Had anyone else on the team have seen it, they would have laughed. Derek, well Derek simply shrunk away from the woman, hands held up in defeat. "Dr. Reid, it's a pleasure." The woman's whole demeanor changed as she turned back to the young man left confused in the doorway. Grasping his hand, she tugged him inside the home and locked the door behind her. "Derek saved my life," she informed grimly, though there was still an air of happiness around her. "My boyfriend - ah, ex boyfriend I mean," she laughed at the sharp glare and grunt from the dark agent. "He was a, oh how did you word it? Sick, paranoid freak with nothing going for him? No no, that wasn't the one I was looking for. A pathetic excuse of a man? Nope, not that either... Hmm. Ah yes, a psychopath." Her words were taunting and carefree, though Derek could see past that facade. He could see the way that talking about the man brought back all those memories, and it was thus labeled a taboo subject whenever they were together. "Four women in a week and a half. I was to be the fifth, Derek found me before it was too late." She gave the man a gentle squeeze on the arm before returning to the kitchen where buzzing of a machine was clearly heard. "Coffee?" She called back. That single word drove Reid to move.

"I'll have one, please."

Derek laughed. He followed the pair and took a seat at the granite bar, "none for me, beautiful." He liked coffee in the sense of it being a pick-me-up, but the other two seemed to worship the drink. Why, he had no idea. "Where's the little man?"

"Up at the neighbors. Lovely pair they are, moved in about two and a half years ago now. They just adore him, and he them. They have this dog there, no idea what it is, but he loves that thing. Been bugging me to let him have a puppy ever since the mutt stumbled upon our yard." There was a definite bit of snark in that. Derek couldn't help but chuckle, if there was one thing about Riven that he knew, it was that she loved animals.

"Why not get him one then," he smirked, hands folding around the glass of water that was set in front of him. A rolling of eyes and scowl later, Derek found himself nursing a bruised arm. "Oww, what was that for?" He all but whined, a pout tugging at full lips.

"For encouraging me to get him a puppy. He's too young," she fired back before turning back to the baffled Dr. "So, Dr. Reid, what role do you play in with the BAU? I've never met you - didn't know Derek when he was FBI either though. Met him when he was still a Marine - just happened to be in the right place at the right time." Her smile did little to warm the tension from the air that seemed to settle every time her case was mention.

"Umm, I'm just like anyone else really." Came the timid response, nimble fingers gliding nervously through honey curls.

"Don't let the Kid fool ya - he's a genius." Derek cut in, taking a small sip of the water. "Does most of the geological and informational things." He added as an afterthought. He was obviously refusing to speak any further on the 'right place, right time' comment but noone seemed to object to that.

"A Genius? Impressive." She hummed in response. A chorus of 'mama, mama' rang into the room and Riven's smile changed all together. It turned to the smile one would expect to see a mother smile and it soothed the budding anger in Derek's heart. The woman turned just in time to catch the charging form of a small boy. Ebony spikes rose up from a round face, a pair of silver and black eyes crinkling shut as sticky lips pulled back in a grin that could woe any person they wanted to. Chubby hands wrapped firmly around his mother's neck and gave her a sticky kiss on the cheek. "And why, young man, are you all sticky." She laughed, setting the boy back down.

For a moment there was silence. The duel colored eyes gazed at the two agents before him, sitting at the counter where he ate his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They took in the way the men seemed to lift themselves up subconsciously at the scrutiny of the boy and the rising and falling of their chests as they breathed evenly. His smile fell from his lips and was replace with a deep scowl. Lean arms crossed defensively over his chest, brows furrowing in a mixture of pain and rage. "Hey, little man." Derek tried, rising from his stool to maneuver his way over to the mother-son pair. The boy said nothing for a long moment, glare firmly covering every square inch of Derek's form. Taking in the rippling muscles in his arms and the way his chest clenched as his arms folded over his chest. The way he stood and the way he stared down at the boy. He took in the way the gun fit snugly in its holster and the way the sunglasses clung to the thin black fabric stretched taut over the muscled chest. He took in the way the fabric clung to each and every muscle the agent had. But most of all, he took in the way the Chocolate orbs bore down on him. They were daring him to do something. Daring him to move or to speak. Daring him to throw a tantrum or to scream in rage.

"Why are you here." The boy fired back after a moment.

"To see your mother," Derek replied.

"Of course that's why you're here," came the snarl.

"Is there a problem with that," Derek retorted.

"Enough, the both of you." Riven snapped sharply. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the two, daring them to challenge her. "Upstairs, get washed up." She instructed the boy with a knock of her head. "You, sit." Her glare turned to Derek then. The man took his seat and the boy clambered up the stairs. The three adults sat silently for a few moments before Riven sighed, head dropping onto freckled arms which lay crossed over the counter. "You know he's like this, Derek. Stop antagonizing him. It hurts." Her words came out mumbled and sighed, and Derek couldn't help but feel bad.

* * *

_Sounds came out gurgled as the blood found its way into her lungs, tell-tale signs of the choking that was occurring. Her tongue was slashed and bloodied, jaw firmly clamped shut and strapped closed. She had no choice but to continue to swallow mouthful after mouthful. Never once did she scream, and that pissed him off. She was suppose to scream. She was suppose to scream and beg and thrash and demand to be let free. She said nothing, she only cried. Even now, silent tears were streaming down her face. In a fit of rage, he'd slashed her tongue right down the middle, yearning for the deafening scream that would accompany it - all he got was a grunt of pain. Heavy fists slammed angrily down on the metal rolling cart, causing the trolley to clatter to the ground, an assortment of knives and scalpels and even a hammer clattering to the ground._

* * *

"You're still not gone?" Sneered words came from the doorway. "Surprising." He added. Derek sighed at the boy and rubbed his temple, pausing in his conversation with Reid and Riven to glance at the boy.

"Is that right? Because I just up and leave all the time." Derek knew where the kid was coming from, hell he often felt the same way when his dad died. He hated the man for a while, he even blamed him for Bufford's treatment - never the less, he grew out of that. He stopped blaming everyone else, but not for a long time. He rose steadily, ignoring the wary look in Riven's eyes or the way Reid's flashed in surprise. He kneeled in front of the boy. "I work, Callan. You know that. You know I wish I could have been here every damn day. I wish I could have seen you ride the bike for the first time, and I wish I could have been at your first baseball game. I wish I could have been able to watch you grow up, and I wish I could have played a bigger role in your life. But I couldn't, Callan. I was out there on those streets every day. I was out there trying to keep the.."

The boy, Callan, cut him off. "You were out there trying to get rid of the bad guys. I know. That's what you always say. But why can't you be here! Why can't you take care of the bad guys here!" He knew he was being spiteful and jealous. He knew Derek tried as hard as he could. But he never had a father - he wasn't stupid, he knew he didn't have a real father. His father was gone, dead. Seven bullets to the chest courtesy of a one Derek Morgan. He didn't hate the man for that - he was grateful. You can't miss something you never knew after all.

The way Derek's eyes softened reminded Callan why he always found himself forgiving the man. "You know I can't, man." Was all the agent said. Callan hesitated for a moment, searching for a witty rebuttal. He came up short and found himself being tugged into the man's arms instead. He felt himself being lifted into familiar arms and grumbled into the muscle ridden shoulder. He wanted to pout and kick and throw a tantrum, but instead he found himself relaxing in those arms. "You're getting too big for this," he heard Derek all but whisper, "what are you, eight now?"

"No!" Callan snapped back, offended at the words. "I'm only six!"

The way Derek's lips curled up in the small smile reserved only for him, Callan knew he'd been played. "Only six? Are you sure? You're too heavy to just be six."

"Maybe you're just too old." Callan fired back.

"Old? Pah, I'm in my prime Little Man." Derek returned. The duo left Reid and Riven in the kitchen, watching the pair with warm expressions as the dark man and young boy taunted and goded one another.

"Why are you really here?" Riven inquired after some words with Reid. Derek froze.

* * *

_She was dead. Finally dead. Her tears had ceased, her eyes sewn open. He scowled. She had yet to scream, even as death overtook her. He growled and slammed things about, thrashing and screaming himself. Slowly, surely, as the fit passed, he took up another knife red with her blood. He carved. He carved into her flesh and he carved and he carved and he carved. He carved until not an inch of her flat belly was left unmarked. The words stared back at him, bloody and raw as the last ounces of blood fell out of her ghostly form. ' L. I. A. R' over and over and over was repeated on her body. She was suppose to be a screamer. She lied. Next he removed her ears. He sliced the appendages off followed moments later by her eyes, and then her lips. Then her heart and her liver, and he took her vocal cords for good measure. He took her then, relishing in the way the blood lubricated him inside of her and the way she was still. He took her until the sun began to rise. Even in death, she would find no peace. He drug her corpse to his car and dumped her carelessly into the plastic wrapped trunk before moving on his way, eager to rid himself of the torment._

* * *

"It's because of him, isn't it." The words were not a question. Riven smiled at her son and ushered him into the backyard, watching him through the corner of her eyes as the boy set to riding his bike. "The killer."

Derek sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he answered, "with the way the killer is going about it... it could be a copycat. And he might target you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." Derek had gone over every page in the file of the case Riven was involved in. He'd gone over it the moment he was allowed into the file room, and he didn't stop digging until he knew every detail by heart. "Is there anyone you could stay with for the time being? Just so you two aren't alone?"

Riven folded her arms over her chest with a soft sigh. "Derek... if he comes, don't you think this house is safe enough? YOU built it after all." Derek knew he built the house for safety. He knew there were hidden cameras everywhere, in places not even he remembered. He also knew she didn't know where they were, nor did she know where the monitors that displayed the videos was hidden.

"I know... but just to be on the safe side." Came the response.

"Derek, I will call every hour - but I can't leave. It'll scare Callan." Riven knew reasoning with him was pointless. "If I don't call within the hour, then you will know something is off and you can come rushing to my side. But please let me stay here."

"You'll be safer in protective custody." Derek's brows furrowed as he stood at the back door, leaning against the frame as he watched the young boy zoom around on his bike. "It'll be safer for him." Derek knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he had to try.

"We're staying. I won't be bullied out of my home by some 'copy-cat.' We'll be fine." Derek could only hope so as he pressed a kiss to the woman's forehead and ruffle the boy's hair. He sauntered back to the unmarked vehicle, listening to the sound of Reid clambering in also, and took one glance at the house praying to whatever God there may be that the two would be find.


	2. Wood and Clay

_**Chapter Two: Wood and Clay**_

_"Build it up with wood and clay,_

_Wood and clay, wood and clay,_

_Build it up with wood and clay,_

_My fair lady."_

"What do you want me to say, Reid? She's an old friend and I visit as often as I can." Derek sighed, head rolling to the side so he could look at the younger man. Reid stood defiantly nonetheless, pale arms crossed over his chest. Had Reid been anyone else, Derek probably would have taken the look to be threatening. But, Reid was Reid and well - the Kid was about as threatening as a snail.

"You were worried about her. How close is this friendship? Is the friendships one of those friendships where if you weren't who you were, you'd be together? Are you the kids dad? Why haven't you told anyone else about this? Does anyone else know? Why are you keeping this a secret?" Question after question was fired off, leaving Derek dizzy and with a throbbing headache.

"Look, Pretty boy, Riven and I are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Let it go." Would they be together if he wasn't who he was? It was no secret, to him anyways, that he did in fact have feelings for his friend. He'd also been there as often as he could for Callan, treating the boy as he'd treat his own son. So... would they? Maybe if he'd never joined the FBI they could have given it a shot - then again, would she only care about him because he'd saved her life? That's the reason that brought him knocking on her doorstep a week after the incident. He wanted to see her then - wanted to make sure she was okay. What he found was a jittery ball of nerves and a slightly swollen belly that he figured was from the attack but quickly learned it was the start of a pregnant-belly.

Derek's thoughts turned thicker and thicker as he entered the Dickson County Police Department. He'd not been in the ivory walled room for many years - he'd hoped he'd never have to return. Returning meant they might be in danger, and perhaps they would be. He felt Reid brush past him and found himself pushing those thoughts back. If anyone could read him, it was Hotch and Reid - both together, well that wasn't a good mix at this point in time.

"Derek Morgan!" A gravely voice, hoarse from years of use and old age, bellowed and a silver haired man with a receding hairline waddled out from one of the few offices in the department. The man's belly was rounded with a slight jiggle to it as he walked, and his fingers were short and stubby, kind of like Pork sausages, as they grabbed Derek by the shoulders, pulling him into a warm embrace that smelled of cheap Bourbon and Whiskey. "It's been a long time," the man mused as he pulled away from the embrace.

Derek offered a small smile, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Chief Wester, it's been a long time," he concurred before turning to his team. "Chief Wester, this is SSA Agents Rossi, Hotchner, Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. We're here to help in any way we can." The chief shook hands with each of the agents, casting a curious look at Reid before returning his attention to Derek.

"When the first body showed up, I knew I had to call you," he cocked his head and lead the team back into the office he'd just exited. "Riven and her boy were out first concern, given the circumstances, so it just seemed right that we call you," he continued. "Of course, Barik is still in Saint Feris, but this was just too similar."

Derek gave a jerk of a nod, arms folded across his broad chest. "Has there been any -"

"Pardon my interruption," Rossi spoke up, syrupy voice laced with a sort of politeness that one must give when working with the FBI, "but we're all quite unsure as to what is going on, and why Morgan knows this case and you requested our team? This is, after all, just one case."

"It's not just this case," the familiar angelic voice caused Derek to tense and his jaw to tighten. "Almost seven ago Leional Barik raped and murder seven women. There would have been an eighth had the BAU not been able to deduce who the killer was and get to his next victim's house in time. However, they were nearly too late. At the time, however, a Squad of Marines were passing through, all on their way to their own homes. One of those Marines had decided to take a jog to cool his thoughts, and he heard the screams. The Marine showed a great amount of courage and bravery when he successfully stopped Barik - however, the damage had been done. The woman was injured and rushed to the hospital, and a week later found out she was pregnant with Barik's child. Barik didn't know he had a kid for three more years - the child, in turn, didn't know who his father was, but instead believed it to be the Marine who had saved his mother's life. When Barik found out, he went into a fit, swearing up and down to have his revenge and that he would find his boy. The Marine, however, continued to stick around. When the boy was four, he learned who his father - his real father - was. Now, there's suppose to be a copy-cat killer, if the recent murder is anything to go by."

Derek's hands were curled tightly into fists, his shoulders squared and his jaw set. "That's right, I remember reading about this case in one of the files. Gideon was one of the agents, am I correct?" Rossi spoke up once more, his voice filled with recognition.

"That's right," Chief Wester confirmed.

"But what does that have to do with Morgan?" It was JJ's sweet, motherly voice that drew the dark skinned man from his silence.

"I was the Marine."

"Derek saved my life then, and has continued to check in on me whenever his job allows." Riven confirmed softly.

"What are you doing here, Riven? Where's Callan?" Derek finally grumbled, turning to face the woman only to find her son not present.

"This was dropped on my doorstep, just a few minutes after you left, and don't worry - Callan's just out in the lobby." She responded, handing over a small pastel envelope. "I don't think it's a Copy-Cat, Derek. It's him..." she whispered, hands stuffed into the thin jacket encasing her lithe form.

Reid took the envelope from Derek and read through its contents, a from marring his lips as he read and reread the note inside. Hotchner and Rossi spoke silently to the Chief while JJ smiled warmly at Riven and took her aside to question her some more. Derek sighed and moved to the lobby, taking a seat by a groggy looking Callan who clambered into the agent's lap as soon as he was seated. This was going to be a tough case.


End file.
